


Departed

by EricaNoelle180



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-14 23:08:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7194647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EricaNoelle180/pseuds/EricaNoelle180
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Circa: Turn of the Century </p><p>It was an ordinary day when Sansa woke to find herself alone. Everyone in the world had disappeared and Sansa must learn to live on her own with Winter coming. The loneliness and silence begin to sink deep inside of her until one day, she realizes that she is not alone. There was someone else out there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Voice

**Author's Note:**

> This story haunted me. I couldn't get this plot bunny out of my head. If any of you follow me on tumblr, you might have seen me post this idea on there. I edited and changed a few details but I just had to write it. Also, please note that this did not go to my beta so please ignore any mistakes.

Winter was coming when it happened. The end of summer had turned cold and the snow was starting to fall. The wind howled like the ancient direwolves that had gone extinct a millennia ago. The Starks had prepared for winter as they always had. The younger generation had only experience one winter as small children, Sansa being only six when it ended. That winter was short, only lasting six years, and was gentle. The five Stark children had never experienced a true winter. The idea of mile high snow and freezing temperatures that their breath froze in midair was daunting. No reassurance or preparation could ease their fears or doubts.

When a telegraph came through proclaiming the end of summer, Eddard Stark, better known as Ned, did what he thought was best and began to prepare. He had done this twice before. Once after his father had passed and he took on his noble title as Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell. He cared for his sister and mother during those long and cold years. The second time was when Rob, his eldest child, was three and his eldest daughter, Sansa, had just been born. Both Arya and Bran had been born during the later years of that winter and Rickon born during the first bloom of spring. None of them could be prepared for a harsh winter but they had to at least try. 

They helped make sure the glass garden was warmed by the spring beneath their ancestral castle. They collected enough fuel to power their leather interior automobiles, something that had not existed in the previous winter, in case they needed to drive into Crofters' Village before the weather turned awful. Candles were collected in case the electric system that had just been installed into the castle would go out. Having now grown used to the convenience of electricity, especially in the kitchens, the idea of growing without it was misfortunate even though many people in the North still went without. 

Food was stocked and stored with enough provisions to last for a three year long winter. Of course none of it would be touched until the snow fell so hard that it was impossible for the market in town to operate. If the winter was light then the provisions might not even be touched. However that was something that the Starks were not willing to assume. For the winter of Ned’s birth was possibly one of the worst in history; many people died including his elder brother Brandon. That winter had lasted eight years, Ned only being four when Brandon had died.  
The summer had been long; lasting close to ten years. Some thought that the ancient prophecy, made during the ancient times when the Children roamed Westeros before the first men, that the summer that was never going to end had finally arrived. The more logical and practical people knew that summer couldn’t last forever. Instead, the longer summer lasted, the more fearful they became. A longer summer meant a long and terrible winter. 

Ned checked everything and prepared his children the best he could on how to survive in such horrid conditions. He wanted them to be prepared for the worst. He wanted them to know that there was a chance that not all would survive. He told them that both himself and Catelyn, their mother, might die and leave them alone. Sansa didn’t believe it for she could not imagine what a harsh winter would be like. She had thought that her father was exaggerating and that everything would be fine. They were in the very early days of winter when the snow was light and melted on the ground. Everything was fine.

Until it wasn’t. 

It was a Sunday when it happened. Sansa had awoke late in the day when the sun hung high in the sky. She had been confused as to why her mother had not woken her to go to the sept in order to pray to the Gods. She had crawled out of bed in search of her family. None of them were to be found, all have disappeared. At first she had thought it was a joke that her siblings would have cooked up. This spelled Jon and Arya all over it. Robb wouldn't have encouraged such behavior but he wouldn't have stopped it either. So, Sansa waited for an hour or two until she realized that her parents never came back from the sept and the Weirwood tree like they normally would have. Suddenly, she began to panic. 

Sansa searched the entire castle high and low for her family and not a single one was there. She even searched the servants quarters. Standing in the middle of Jeyne Poole's room, she realized that even the servants were gone. They normally would be about the house, cleaning and doing their respective chores. Yet, the castle was silent. No servant was laughing or curtsying, calling her “My Lady”. The silence was suffocating.

Convinced that she was going mad, Sansa grabbed a pair of Arya's riding boots and slipped them on. Sansa wasn't a fan of riding so she had outgrown her own boots years ago. Arya however, enjoyed riding. For what Sansa was planning on doing, her soft shoes would not work and she needed something that could handle a walk in the light snow. Arya would be extremely angry that her sister had borrowed them. With the fear sinking into Sansa's stomach, she would welcome Arya's anger if it meant that her family was still here.  
In the back of Sansa's mind, she had thought they abandoned her. Logically she knew that it wasn't they case because no matter how frustrating her family was, she was loved. She loved them and knew that they wouldn't leave her behind for anything; just like she wouldn't leave them willing. She knew that one day she would marry and leave Winterfell but she had always thought that she would be able to come back and hear her mother's laughter and see her father's kind eyes. 

Even if they did leave her, someone would have said something; a servant or Jeyne. Jeyne couldn't keep a secret to save her life and it would have come out sooner or later. If they did leave, it wouldn't explain the disappearance of the servants. Her family wouldn't leave her and that made Sansa even more terrified. If they were truly gone...where did they go and why? 

Sansa rushed into the Godswood in search for her father. She reached the Weirwood tree and nothing. Not even a hint that Ned had been there at all. Next was the sept and the same thing. She searched the grounds from the stables to the old training area that hadn't been used in nearly a hundred years. Other than the horses in the stables, there was not a single living soul to be found. Winterfell was empty. By late afternoon, Sansa could feel her stomach growling in hunger but she couldn't handle the idea of food. She was far to nervous and scared. 

Knowing that the sun would set within the next few hours, she made a rash decision. She grabbed the keys to the automobile that Rodrick used to drive the family into town. Sansa had never driven a day in her life but she was willing to try. After several awful attempts and a damaged headlight, she eventually figured out how to maneuver the vehicle. Her father had always told her that she was a fast learner if she put her mind to something. 

She drove herself into town, not passing another automobile along the way. She reached town hoping to find someone, anyone but just like Winterfell, Crofters' Village was abandoned. She stood in the middle of town, going into every store that she could but she always found the same result. Nothing. The sun was going down when she made her way back to the automobile when the realization sunk in, Sansa Stark was alone in the world. 

It was completely dark by the time she reached Winterfell again. She had a small hope that everyone would be inside worrying about her but she was greeted with nothing more than shadows. Knowing her way around Winterfell, she quickly found a lamp and was able to cast some light into the entrance hallway. The illumination of the hall she played in as a child only made the loneliness sink in deeper. She wrapped her arms around herself and collapsed to the floor. 

Tears blurred her vision and her throat grew sore. However, the tight constricted feeling swelling up in her throat didn't stop her from screaming out. Her painful cries echoed of the stone walls only to remind her at how alone she was and that no one else was around to comfort her. She balled her fist and banged on the wooden floor. She cried, hit, kicked and pulled at her hair in pain. She then started to beg. She prayed and pleaded with the Gods to return her family and the rest of the world. She didn't know how long she was on the ground but the last thing she remembered thinking before sleeping over took her was questioning why the Gods had forsaken her. 

The next morning she woke on the entrance hall floor. Sansa was confused at first, wondering why she had slept there but it quickly all came rushing back. The pain was fresh but she didn't have it in her to cry. Instead she pulled herself up and dragged herself to the kitchen. There she found some bread that had been made before she found herself alone. She cut herself a piece and wondered the castle; not even tasting the bread. She found herself standing in front of her father's office. He never liked his children being in there because it was were he worked and couldn't afford the distraction. But Sansa realized that he wasn't around to care so she pushed the door open. She sat down in his leather chair and it was the closet thing she had to her father's arms being wrapped around her. 

As she sat in the chair and absentmindedly ate the piece of bread, the telephone came into focus. It was a rather new invention that had been making a fuss throughout Westeros. All the rich families had one. Ned had one installed because he found it useful for business. Catelyn would use it from time to time to make appointments but beyond that, Sansa had never used one. She knew the mechanics but never tried. Hope swelled up inside of her and she tossed the bread aside. Picking up the ear piece and for a breif second she didn't feel so alone. Until she realized that no one was on the other end. No operator to ask her who she was trying to reach. Just empty silence. Numbly, Sansa hung the receiver back on it's holder and resumed eating her bread; a stray tear falling down her cheek. 

The next day was the same silence.

As was the next.

And the next. 

Eventually Sansa realized that she needed to eat more than stale bread. She had never cooked anything before but she taught herself to drive in a panic, cooking couldn't be that much harder. She was wrong. The first thing she made, she burnt; almost catching it on fire but because she was starving, she ate it anyway. The next meal she raided the cooks office and found several cook books. She found that if she read the recipe and found the right ingredients, she could make something that wasn't so terrible. As time moved forward, Sansa found that her cooking skills got better. Since her family had stocked the kitchen with preservable foods and frozen meets for the upcoming winter, Sansa knew that she would be well stocked for years. They had stocked enough preservatives to feed the family and staff for three years but since she was alone, Sansa could easily make the food stretch at least twice that.

She also started cleaning up after herself. On the third day she realized that since no one else was around, the dirty dishes and pots that were piling up would not be cleaned by anyone else. After making a mess of herself and spilled water all down her front, Sansa learned how to clean the kitchen. She had actually found it therapeutic. It filled her time and mind. It kept her from dwelling on the fact that she was alone. She started filling her days with house work and labor. She would feed the horses, ride them and care for them. She would wash the linen and cook her meals. She would scrub the floor and walls. She would build fires to keep herself warm along with any other choir she could find. She worked herself until her body hurt because it was easier to sleep at night; and when that didn't work, she broke into her father's liqueur cabinet. 

Her evenings were filled with dark rooms silence. Eventually the silence got to her and she forced herself to play the piano. She had hated playing as a child but the boredom over took her. She played roughly and attempted to sing. The sound of her own voice made her stop. She grabbed her throat and began to cry again. It had been weeks since she had been on her own and she hadn't spoken a word since; it almost hurt to start again. She broke down as the pain settled in again. Sansa didn't touch the piano again. 

Instead Sansa broke out her mother's old vinyl record player. Catelyn had loved that thing and every year on her birthday, Ned would buy her a new record. Sansa had dozens and dozens of records to shift through. She knew her mother's favorites because they were the ones with the most scratches on them and the ones with the most familiar tunes. However those were the most painful for her to hear. Instead she started playing the less well known ones just to fill the silence. 

She stopped working and cleaning when the sun set and filled her evenings with music. She also started pulling books off of the shelves in the library and began to read. Bran was always the bookworm when he realized that physical sports were not in his talents. Ned always liked to encourage his children's talents so he spent more money on books than before. Sansa would curl up with a roaring fire, tea, music and a new book. It became a peaceful routine that almost made her forget the empty void other people had left. 

This was her life for months. She had stopped keeping track of time but she knew that her sixteenth birthday had come and gone. The snow began to fall heavier outside but still not enough to make piles of snow. Soon Sansa wouldn't be able to step outside. She had moved the horses into the stables that her father had built adjacent to the glass gardens. She spent more time with them than she had before because at least they were something living. After the incident with the piano, Sansa slowly began to use her voice. She spoke the the horses and it made her wonder if they could understand her. 

One day she decided to make a trip into town. She knew that she had plenty of supplies but figured that after a year or two, she might need something. So, she drove the automobile back into town and broke into every shop, loading up the automobile with everything she could find. She took her time and allowed herself to remember . The memories were sad but over time they became less painful. Eventually she learned to live with the silence and loneliness. It wasn't easy and Sansa wondered how long she would be able to live like this. The despair and isolation would eat away at her. 

The days bled together and eventually Sansa forgot what company felt like. Other than the horses and the characters in the books she read, Sansa forgot what her other life was like. The snow was building slowly in heaviness so she knew that a long time had passed; winter was progressing. It wasn't like the stories her father used to tell her or the one from Old Nan but it was more snow than she had ever seen. She had given up hope that her family or anyone would come back. Not only did she loose her family and the rest of the world but soon she would be confined to the castle until winter passed. 

Until everything changed. 

It was the day she scrubbed the floors. Keeping Winterfell in clean working order, Sansa found that it was best to do one chore a day. Outside of cooking and feeding the horses, most of the housework took all day long or at least until the sun went down. Her least favorite task was cleaning out the horses stables but she did it without complaint. She also found that that horse manure made good fertilizer and her vegetables grew faster and better. She cleaned the floors on Wednesdays. All the wooden floors would get a thorough cleaning. Even the in the rooms Sansa stopped using. It took all day and kept her occupied. 

She was scrubbing what had been the apothecary once upon a time. Since the inventions of hospitals, there was no need for personal in home medical care. It was turned into a cabinet for minor medical needs such as bandages, rubbing alcohol and herbs. There were even some canned foods that didn't fit into the kitchen pantry for future use. Sansa was on her hands and knees scrubbing the wood with a bucket full of soap and water beside her. She was lost in thought until something out of the ordinary happened. The silence broke. There was a shrill piercing sound that penetrated the air. It took her a moment to realize what that sound was. Her heart began beating as she realized what was happening. She stood quickly, discarding the soapy, wet gloves on her hands and began to run. 

Sansa ran as fast as her feet would carry her. She chased the sound as though her life depended on it. She reached her father's office quickly. She pushed the door open and the shrill of the ring hit her ears. Sansa all but leap toward the desk, knocking everything off the desk. However, when her hand touched bronze and gold ear piece, the telephone stopped ringing. 

“Hello! Is anyone there!? Hello?” There was only silence on the other side. The deafening blankness caused something to break inside of her. “No! Come back! Please! Come back!” She screamed into the receiver but nothing happened. She slammed the ear piece down and started to throw anything she could find. She had worked hard to keep everything clean and orderly. Ned had hated the idea of his office being messy so to honor his memory, Sansa tried to keep it clean. It was the only way she could remember him. Now that she missed the only chance she had a human contact in who knows how long, she just broke. 

Hot piercing tears scorched her porcelain skin. Her ice blue eyes held such fury that the almost turned red to match her long hair. The sound of glass shattering mirrored how the inside of her heart felt. She ripped the books off of the shelves and tossed everything she could find. When her frustration and angry slowly began to ebb away. Her heart was still pounding inside of her and sweat pouring over her skin. She closed her eyes and let the silence take over her.

“Please. I'll do anything. Please, just ring. Please.” And for the first time since she was alone, the Gods were kind to her. After a moment of silence, the telephone rang for a second time. Sansa stared at it for a second in disbelief. Once the shock was worn off, Sansa grabbed the ear piece and receiver quickly. “Hello? Is someone there?” For a second she thought she was going crazy because there was no one on the other end. Perhaps she had finally lost her mind. She was about to hang up when she heard it. A breath. Someone was breathing on the other end. “If someone is there, please speak to me.”

“I thought....” The voice was music to her ears, even though it cracked slightly from lack of use. There was a chuckle and it caused Sansa to sink down into her father's chair. By the sound of the two words spoken and the chuckle, it was clear that the person she was speaking to was a man. “I thought that I would never speak to anyone again.” She wasn't alone. There was someone else out there. “Is this Catelyn?” 

“No. Catelyn is gone.”

“I see.” There was no disappointment in his tone but instead curiosity. It made sense to Sansa suddenly. Months ago she had picked up that telephone in hopes of reaching someone but there was no operator on the other line. An operator can call anyone. This person must have gone to the telephone company and calling anyone he would know. This man at some point had known her mother and hoped of finding someone. “Can I ask who I am speaking to?”

“I'm her daughter. Sansa.”

“Well hello Sansa, my name is Petyr.”


	2. Connection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Like I said, this story is begging me to be written so I finished chapter two rather quickly. Again, this did not go to my beta and was only edited by me. Please excuse any mistakes.

“How did you know my mother?” Sansa asked on the third day. Petyr would call every day at three in the afternoon and they would spend the entire evening talking. She learned that Petyr was in King’s Landing and that the city was completely abandoned. There were automobiles littering the streets as though their owners simply had gotten out of the vehicle and left them behind. Flats, estates and everything were now empty. Petyr had searched everything and everywhere the first couple of months before heading to the telephone company. He was certain that he would never find another living soul but he had to at least try. It didn’t take long for him to learn the system the telephone company was using. He tried every number listed of people he knew. No one answered.

Not until Sansa.

When the hung the telephone up after it rang several times, he assumed that Catelyn and her home had gone the same way as the others. It wasn't until he heard the most beautiful sound in the world. He heard the sweet sound of another person's voice pleading for him to come back. He stood in shock for several minutes, thinking that maybe he had gone mad. He picked up the receiver again and dialed. After a few rings she picked up once more and it was the most magical thing he ever heard. Since that moment, Sansa and Petyr seemed to have latched onto one another for some type of human contact.

Sansa had never heard of Petyr before because her mother never spoke of him. She knew roughly what her mother’s life was like before she married her father but Catelyn rarely spoke of it in detail. Sansa knew that her mother was raised in the Riverlands on an estate called Riverrun. She had two siblings, Edmure and Lysa; the latter had died a few years back under suspicious circumstances. She was beautiful and social as a young girl; very popular. Catelyn married Sansa’s father a few short months after discovering she was pregnant with Robb at eighteen; her father as twenty-one. Beyond the small details, Sansa didn’t know much at all. She knew more about her father’s childhood now thinking on it but her mother must have had friends as a child or as a young adult.

“We grew up together.” Petyr replied. “My father wasn’t wealthy but was a good friend of your grandfather. Hoster Tully took me in when my father died. It was such a strange thing, losing my father and then being relocated to the Riverlands. I was born in the Vale, you see. It was a hard time but your mother’s family had been kind to me.” There was something in Petyr’s tone that made Sansa want to question him. Why her mother had never spoke of this man before concerned her.

“So you were like a brother to my mother?” This made him laugh; hard. She could almost hear the tears pouring out of his eyes from such amusement. He clearly hadn’t laughed in a while but then again, neither had she. It was wonderful to hear and it made Sansa smile even though she didn’t know why. It caused small butterflies to form in her stomach as though she had a nervous feeling inside of her.

“She always thought of me as a younger brother. Even at her wedding she kissed my cheek and introduced me as her baby brother.” Sansa found that information interesting and knew roughly where her mother had kept old photos from her wedding. “However, I never saw Catelyn as a sister. I loved her.” Suddenly there was a crushing blow to her emotions that Sansa did not expect. If baffled her at the disappointment. She had feelings for boys in the past but this man was close to her mother’s age; had to be if he had grown up with her. She didn’t know what it was. She didn’t know if it was because he was the last man on earth; completely alone with her or if it was something more. Either way, he was hundreds of miles away and she most likely would never set eyes on him. If she did, it would be once winter was over.

“You love my mother?” Her tone was small and she mentally hit herself. Anyone would be able to tell what she was thinking. To his credit, Petyr didn't laugh or tease her, as her brothers would have. She wasn't sure if it was because he was a grown man and far more sensitive or if he didn't want to lose the only person he could speak to. He was the only person she would be able to spend the rest of her life with, even if it was through the telephone. She didn't want to be completely alone again.

“Loved. Past tense Sweetling.” Her stomach did a flip again but she wasn't sure if it was because he no longer was in love with Catelyn or the fact that he called her Sweetling. She never had a nickname before and how the name rolled off his tongue was pleasing. “My broken heart mended a long time ago. Although, your aunt never healed completely.........”

The days continued in such a similar manner. They would spend hours on the phone and suddenly weeks passed. It was as though they didn't know anything different. Speaking to Petyr became the highlight of Sansa's life. She continues with her housework and the routine she built but it felt as though her life had purpose again. There was a connection that had been missing since she had been alone. She was terrified of saying the wrong thing or putting herself out there in case Petyr ended their calls. She couldn’t be alone again. She couldn’t lose him.   
Petyr filled her thoughts when she wasn’t speaking to him. When she cleaned or would tend to the horses, she would think of questions she wanted to ask him. During one afternoon early in their conversations, Sansa had shifted through her old family photos; especially the ones from when her parents wedding. The photos were all black and white but they still made Sansa pause. She had forgotten what her family looked like. She remembered when each photo was taken and how long they had to stand there in order for the photo to be taken. She had spent hours simply looking at them and remembering everything. It was the first time Sansa cried on the telephone to Petyr. Sansa had been embarrassed afterwards but he was gentle with her; something she sensed he wasn’t used to doing. 

“Sweetling, it’s natural. You miss them and suddenly they are gone. It’s natural to feel despair at their memories.” He had lost people too, she realized. He never talked about anyone and Sansa noticed that he never talked about his life unless she made inquires. He asked her question after question about her life and what her family had been like; she assumed it was because of his connection with her mother. Yet, he never once offered much information on himself or those he lost when everyone departed. 

It took her a few days to find the wedding photo she was searching for. She had seen them in the past, when her mother wanted to reminisce that special day. She would show her children with a small smile on her face. Catelyn had been very beautiful at eighteen. She had a small round baby bump that was only noticeable when she pointed it out. The wedding had been rushed due to Robb’s impending arrival. The fact that Catelyn had gotten pregnant outside of wedlock was something very scandalous at the time. 

After shifting through all the photos, she did find the one wedding photo that was the entire reason she opened the old dusty box in the first place. It was the only photo of Petyr she could find. The photo was nineteen years old and faded. It was of her mother who seemed extremely happy but the man standing beside her seemed depressed. Petyr must have still loved Catelyn when this photo was taken. He was smaller than she had pictured in her mind and younger, no older than sixteen. He had dark hair that had to be either dark brown or black. He had no facial hair in the photo but he had once mentioned maintaining his beard; so that must have changed. 

“How old are you?” Sansa had asked him the day after she found the photo. She didn’t tell him that she did but he was a smart man so she assumed he figured it out. She was holding that photo in her hand while the hear piece was in the over. The receiver was perched on her father’s desk while she sat crossed legged in his chair. She fingered the photo as she listened to his voice, making him more real and not a person made up only in her imagination. 

“Why such the personal questions today Sansa?” Petyr teased. His tone was light so she knew he wasn’t angry. She had fretted about possibly asking him things because he never divulged anything personal voluntarily, but he didn’t seemed fazed at the slightest. It wasn’t the first question she had asked. His relationship with her mother was the first thing she inquired about. She learned that they were close until shortly after Ned and Catelyn’s wedding. He seemed resistant at first but simply told her that he had been injured and that her mother was the direct cause of his injury; and that she had been less than kind to him afterwards. “Perhaps I should ask how old you are.”

“Sixteen…I think. I believe I missed my birthday.” 

“So young.” The comment made Sansa’s heart sink. She wanted to please him and she knew that there was an age distance between them. He had to be at least her mother’s age, if not younger. Her mother had her children at a young age. There was no one around to care or judge them. Even if there were, young girls married older men all the time, or at least they had. “Add nineteen years onto your age and you will have your answer.”

Sansa quickly did the math. Thirty-five. He wasn’t old at all she realized. Older than her certainly but not old enough for it to be considered inappropriate. She looked at his face again and wondered what nineteen years would have done to the boy in the photo. Had he grown taller or stayed the same height? Was his hair the same? Did he dress the same? How much had he changed from this young boy and what part did her mother’s actions play in the man he became? 

“Thirty-five, you’re still young.” This caused him to chuckle, something he did often. He seemed amused by her and it made her smile. She wanted him happy and hearing him laugh made her want to cause it again. She felt as though she wanted to go out of her way to please him. She was certain that she would do almost anything for him now.   
His age actually surprised her. Maybe it was just talking to him or associating him with her parents, but she had thought that he would be older. Her parents always seemed so much older to her. She knew that her mother was only three years older than Petyr but it felt more like three decades older. She couldn’t explain it but there was a difference to her. Thirty-five on Petyr was far different than thirty-nine on her mother or forty-two on her father. 

Her parents had been young.

But now they were gone.

Petyr opened up more after that and Sansa felt more comfortable asking questions. She learned about his childhood in the Riverlands and the memories he had of the time he spent in the Vale. He told her of his job in Gulltown which eventually led enough promotions to have an important seat in Parliament in King’s Landing. He worked directly with the Prime Minister, Robert Baratheon and his council. Petyr had power and influence in Westeros and that was what he lost when the people disappeared. 

However, he never spoke of a love life. For a man in his thirties, it was unusual for him to be unmarried or not even attached. Sansa knew that he loved her mother close to nineteen years ago but he said that his heart had healed. Surly he must have moved on and meet someone else during that time. She could tell that he loved his work but that couldn’t be the only thing he had to lose before. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“I can only assume that it’s important if you’re asking permission.” He teased her. It was a habit of his, Sansa was noticing. He would toy with her; a tease here, an odd comment there. There were sometimes that he would say something that made her shift in her chair; but she never commented on it. She just let him say such things to her. If her father heard him, Sansa knew he would be dead within the morning. She would never admit it, but she liked him and his brazen way of speaking. “Go on.”

“Were you ever married?” He didn’t answer right away but Sansa knew the answer. If Petyr hadn’t been married, he would have simply said so. The silence was enough to let her know the truth. Petyr had been someone’s husband and Sansa had never felt so much disappointment before. “I guess that answers my question.”

“Yes. I was married.” Petyr didn’t say anymore and Sansa figured that he must have loved her dearly if he had difficulty speaking of her. Sansa almost wished that she didn’t ask because now she wish she didn’t know. It didn’t matter really, the wife was gone now and over time Petyr would learn to let her go; Sansa reasoned. They were the only two people left in the world now.   
“It must have been painful to lose her when the rest of the world disappeared.” She didn’t know what else to say. Did she offer him condolences? Was that the right thing to do? Where are the people who departed even die? Sansa didn’t know what had happened to them; just that they were no longer on earth. They just vanished and Sansa wasn’t sure if that meant the same thing as death. There were no bodies to bury and it was as though no one had lived at all. 

“She didn’t.” Sansa paused, the question on her lips. “She didn’t disappear I mean. She had died a few years ago.” Suddenly, she felt ashamed. She had assumed that his wife had disappeared the same way as everyone else. It never occurred to her that Petyr might be a widower. He had already mourned her. Her loss wasn’t fresh and Petyr had time to move on. He would always care for her, Sansa assumed but he wasn’t still heartbroken over her death. It was different. 

“I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t know Sweetling.”

“How did she die?” Nothing. It was as though the line had done dead. Sansa would have thought it had if she didn’t hear the clinking in the background, telling her that the line was still connected. She suddenly felt guilty for asking. Her death must have been horrible and awful if he didn’t want to speak of it. “I’m sorry Petyr. I shouldn’t have asked.”  
“I’m not a good man Sansa.” With that she heard the telephone line go dead. He had hung up and Sansa didn’t know why. His last comment puzzled her. Why wasn’t he a good man? And what did that have to do with his wife? From everything he had told her, he seemed perfectly fine. He was a man who started with nothing, had loss in his life as well as heartbreak. He struggled but came out on top and made a life for himself. To her, it sounded as though Petyr was a great man. 

She didn’t hear from him for two days after that. Every night she would wait by the telephone, waiting for his call but it didn’t come. The first night she cried. She had grown used to hearing his voice every day. She couldn’t go back to the loneliness anymore. She couldn’t go back to having no one around but it was more than that. She couldn’t go back to an empty existence without him in it. She needed his voice. It was the only thing that kept her sane enough to make it through this winter. 

On the second day, she was stronger. After an hour of waiting for the telephone to ring, she simply went to sleep; exhausted by the worry that had consumed her for the past two days. On the third day, she didn’t expect him to call but she went and sat behind the same desk again and waited. It was thirty minutes past the usual time he would call when the telephone rang. She let it ring three times simply out of spite. 

“I didn’t think you would call.” Sansa said as her greeting. Her tone was flat and irritated. She wanted him to know that she was angry with him. She was happy to hear his voice more so than angry but he didn’t needed to know that. Sansa was perfectly content with allowing him to think that she would be furious for a good long while. Perhaps it was her spoiled upbringing but she didn’t take kindly to being treated in such a manner. “It’s not nice to hang up on a lady.”

“My apologize Lady Stark.” Petyr tried to sound teasing but it fell flat. Sansa could tell that he was bothered by her question about his wife’s death and she felt guilty. She didn’t want to cause him pain but that didn’t excuse his treatment. Not to mention she was still curious as to what he meant by him not being a good man. “You’re correct. A man should never hang up on a lady.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“Because I’m not a good man Sansa.”

“What does that even mean!?” Sansa yelled louder than she had intended to but she had run that comment through her head for the last two days and couldn’t think of any reason to why he wouldn’t be a good man. He seemed perfectly fine to her. He never gave her reason to doubt him or assume that he would be some awful person. “You say that you are not a good man and then you hang up on me! I have been fretting and worrying over this for days but you don’t call. In case you haven’t noticed I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere with snow outside! It’s starting to set Petyr! That means it will soon start piling up and I will be stuck in here for years! So, I have no way to get to you or call you to figure out what you mean! Can you think for split second-” 

“I killed her.” 

Sansa stopped. She hadn’t expected that. She was curious as to how his wife died but murder had never crossed her mind. She had assumed that she died by some natural cause or by an accident. She never would have thought that she died by Petyr’s own hands. Sansa didn’t know how to react to that. Part of her wanted to hang up but she knew if she did, he may never call her again. No matter how that news made her feel, she didn’t want to lose the only contact with another living soul, no matter who that soul belonged to. 

“What?”

“I killed her.”

“Why?”

“We…had our issues.” Petyr paused for a moment, searching for the right words. “I never loved her. I married her because it was a means to an end. She would have done anything for me because the love she felt for me was borderline obsessive. Our marriage didn’t last long. She grew paranoid very quickly and controlling. Honestly she wasn’t very bright either.” He chuckled at that and Sansa realized his evasiveness before wasn’t out of love for his first wife but out of fear how she would react when she learned of how she died.  
“That doesn’t tell me why you killed her.”

“Because she got in the way.” It was blunt and almost took Sansa by surprised. “You need to understand Sweetling that I am not a good person. I’ve done many things to get where I am and I have hurt many people. I don’t regret my actions and if I had to go back, I would do it all over again. I know who I am and you should to.” Sansa didn’t reply but sat there in silence. “If you don’t want to hear from me again, I would understand.”

“No. Please. Don’t leave me.”

“Okay then. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Once again, Petyr hung up the phone. Sansa sat there in silence and disbelief. That conversation was the shortest they ever had but possibly the most important one. She felt different than before and had a better understanding of who Petyr was; and to some extent who she was. Sansa never felt so foolish in her life. She realized how naive she had been. But most of all, she realized something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted this chapter to show how young Sansa still is. I also wanted Petyr still to be the Littlefinger we love but more mysterious. Sansa is alone in the world and Petyr is the only other living person. It wouldn't occur to her not to trust him, especially since he used to be a friend of her mother's.


	3. Sentiment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back guys! Sorry for the delay but I have been fighting a nasty head cold, so my writing hasn't been flowing very well lately. 
> 
> Also, this has not gone through my beta so please excuse any grammatical mistakes.

“The snow is falling heavier.” Sansa stated as she looked out the window. It had been six months since the telephone rang for the first time. Petyr and Sansa had grown closer in that time, learning everything they could about each other. Petyr stopped holding back mostly. He would answer any questions she had but if he didn't want to answer her, he would say so. Sansa hated when he said such things and kept things from her. She had been completely open with him about everything in her life; but he was still holding back. She understood that he has done some awful things in his life but who was around to care anymore? The world was gone. 

Petyr could no longer be punished for his actions because there were no courts or laws to obey. He stated that he played the political game for most of his life but there was no game left. She was the only thing left for him and he already told her that he committed murder. If she didn't end their connection on the news that he murdered is nameless wife, then what would? What could be worse than that? Perhaps at one point Sansa would have turned away at such knowledge but not now. Not when they were the only people left alive. 

“Are you well prepared?” Petyr asked with concern in his voice. She smiled at that. He didn't realize how far north she was until she explained where Winterfell was. Since then, he had been far more concerned about her surviving the winter. She assured him that as long as Winterfell withheld the winter, as it had done for centuries, she would be fine. She had enough provisions to last at least six years. 

“Yes. Father made sure that we wouldn't want for anything.” Sansa replied, pulling her afghan closer around her. The office had a chill because the fire that she had lit was dwindling down and the office had a chill. She didn't tell Petyr that. She would always build a fire, something she had become very good at in the last couple of months, before she went to sleep at night but it would be gone by the time she woke the next morning. Her chambers would be freezing. She compensated with pulling quilts and blankets from other chambers and piling them on her bed. No one was using them and therefore she found it unnecessary to leave them unused. 

“I don't like it that you're there alone.” She felt touched that he cared for her well being. His tone was soft and worrisome; it made Sansa's stomach flip. She felt those tingling feelings in the pit of her stomach. Over several months the small crush she had one him had developed into so much more. She never said anything to him because part of her felt incredibly foolish. 

Sansa had fallen in love with a man she had never set eyes on. She imagined him to be an older version of the young boy in the photo of her mother's wedding. Of course she knew that he had to of changed since then but at this point, Sansa didn't care. He could have warts and scars and he would be as handsome to her as any man in those romance novels she loved so much. She knew that his emotional scars and deeds were far darker than any physical scar. She loved him despite all of it. 

She fell in love with him by just hearing his voice. She had always thought that when she fell in love it would be at first sight. However, she had never even set eyes upon Petyr and she would do anything for him at this point. Since there was only the two of them left in the world, Sansa felt as though there really wasn't any consequences left for her actions. She had given up on on the afterlife because she felt abandoned by the Gods. Clearly they had a plan that didn't involve her. 

In the beginning when she was first alone and Petyr had not made his contact, Sansa had wished that her family and the rest of the world had not left her. As the loneliness began to sink into her, Sansa prayed to the Gods to take her too. To be gone from this world was far better than being alone in it. Now, she lived for his voice. She could deal with being alone in Winterfell for years until winter passed as long as she was able to hear his voice. 

Her feelings for this man whom she had never set eyes upon had grown. At first she had thought that it was an attraction because there was no one else left in the world. Now she knew better. Now she knew that she loved him. It wasn't just some school girl crush but her heart hurt at the thought of him never calling again. She knew the chances of never hearing from him again. Something could happen to him and she would never know. She would wonder what happened as the snow fell harder and harder. She knew that once winter was over, she would search for him but it wasn't clear if she would find him. 

“Unfortunately, that isn't something we can change.” Petyr didn't reply but it was a heavy silence. Sansa knew how to read his voice and even when he didn't speak. He was thinking about something, contemplating but she didn't know what it was. She knew better than to ask because he wouldn't tell her even if she did. Instead, she decided it was best to change the topic. “What do you miss the most? About people and the world?” 

“Besides you?” His voice held a naughty tone to it that always made Sansa squirm. She forced herself to shift in her seat in hopes of getting some kind of friction. She felt a rush of heat flow to the center of her legs that she wasn't used to. She had been raised in a religious household, even if her parents prayed to different Gods, they all had one thing in common; virtue. A young noble woman was not to lose her virtue until her wedding night. That was something Sansa had lived by. Now the world was different and she wondered if remaining a virgin forever was something she was willing to do. 

Hearing his voice caused her emotions to become unbalanced and her mind strayed to all manner of things. Her brother had kept a novel that was written in Asshai that Sansa stumbled upon. There were several graphic imagines of couples engaged in all manner of perversion that Sansa couldn't help but imagine herself entwined with Petyr. After finding that book, it was the first time Sansa had ever touched herself. The next day, she seemed shy on the phone and Petyr had a smug tone as though he just knew what she had done. He never said anything but he knew. 

“Be serious Petyr.”

“Oh I am.” She let out a small whimper at that. He only said a few words and suddenly she was a mess. These telephone calls were becoming harder and harder for her to withstand sometimes. She enjoyed them and would never give them up but Petyr just had a way of speaking that was just filthy. It wasn't the words he said but how he said them. His voice just had this appeal that made Sansa want to forgo every ounce of virtue her mother taught her. “Tell me Sweetling, how are you feeling at this exact moment? And don't lie Sansa, because I will know.” 

It took her a few moments to think of the right word. “Frustrated.” This caused his to chuckle but it wasn't the amused laugh he normally gave her. No, this was something far more devious and exciting. He seemed pleased with her answer and it made Sansa all the more warm and wet in between her legs. She shifted slightly again. She knew that it wouldn't be wise to fib and lie to him, for he always seemed to know when she did. 

“And what is causing this frustration?” He was toying with her and she didn't even care. The throbbing that was going on between her legs were only getting worse and worse. No matter how much she moved or the friction she tried to achieve, nothing would cause the desire to subside. She knew what she needed but couldn't touch herself while on the telephone with Petyr. Couldn't she? She didn't answer because she didn't know what to say. “Answer me Sansa.” 

“You. You're causing this frustration.” Her voice was breathless and her chest heaving. She crossed her legs and squeezed. No relief. She huffed and he out right laughed. Sansa practically growled at his laughter. It was common that Sansa would feel pent up after their conversations but she was always able to relieve that pressure. However, at the current moment she found that this was the most frustrated she had been in awhile.

“I apologize Sweetling. How rude of me. Perhaps I should help relieve that frustration. Would you like that?” Sansa could only whimper in agreement. She could almost hear him smiling through the telephone. “Perfect. Now, I will need you to answer all my questions and do as I command. Do you understand Sweetling?” Again, Sansa whimpered. “Good. What position are your legs in?” 

“They're crossed.” 

“Uncross them.” Sansa did as she was told and untangled her legs. She didn't know exactly where this was going but she couldn't help but be excited for it. “I want you to spread your legs for me. Can you do that Sweetling?” Another whimper. “Good. Now, are you wearing your undergarments?” Sansa whispered a reply. In truth she had stopped wearing many things that were deemed appropriate for a young lady. It was odd at first but she quickly got used to not wearing uncomfortable garments such as corsets. “Take them off.”

Sansa took the one hand that was not holding the receiver and moved it to lift her skirt. She reached under were her undergarments were and started to pull them down her hips. She lifted her hips slightly in order to push the garments down and she nearly squealed when her bottom touched the cool leather. Petyr chuckled but didn't say anything. The garments reached her ankles and Sansa quickly tossed them across the office room. 

“They're off.” 

“Perfect. Now, place your feet on the edge of the desk and make sure that your legs are spread wide.” Sansa placed one foot on the edge of the desk and then placed the other one a few feet down causing her unclothed center to be spread to the world. She could feel the breeze grace her dripping wet center. She bunched her skirt around her waist, hoping that Petyr will allow her to touch herself soon but didn't dare do so without his command. The last thing she wanted was him to disconnect the call because she didn't obey his orders. The idea that what she was doing was completely improper left her mind completely. “Are you wearing a dress?”

“Yes.”

“Does it fasten in the front or back?”

“Front. Buttons.” 

“Undo them. Slowly. And count as you do.” Without question, Sansa reached up to the top of her dress and undid the first button and then the second. She went painfully slow and listed off each button once as each of them opened the front of her dress. Quickly she pushed the dress aside and her chest was bare as well. She pulled the parts that were tucked into the skirt out and then kicked her skirt off before returning to her previous position. Her entire front was open and her nipples hardened at being released from their confines. “Are you naked for me Sansa?”

“Yes.”

“Touch your breasts. Pinch and turn your nipples.” She didn't expect this order because this was not something she had done before. She had always gone straight to her center in search of that release. She didn't question him but did as he commanded. She took her pointer finger and thumb and began to pull at her nipple. She whimpered and she could almost feel his smirk through the telephone. “Good girl. Palm them.”

“Petyr!” Sansa cried out. She stretched out her hand and engulfed her breasts. Her motions and tugs got rougher. She found that digging her nails into her skin caused a nice medium between pain and pleasure. Her bottom lip went between her teeth and she bit down lightly. She liked the sharp pain on both her lips and breast. She continued to play with herself but it wasn't enough. “Petyr, I need more. Please. Give me more.” 

“Take your hand and drag it down you stomach.” His voice had grown darker and huskier. It was an attractive sound that only made Sansa want him more. She pulled her hand away from her breast and began to run it down her stomach at a slow pace. The tingling trail that her fingertips left behind only made the torture so much more enjoyable. She knew that the slow path was far more enjoyable than simply just going to her center and playing with herself until she came. “Touch yourself.” 

When the tips of her fingers made contact with that small nub nestled between her legs, she hissed out Petyr's name. He in returned, groaned as though he too was receiving pleasure from her touch. Without his command, Sansa began to twist and turn her fingers against herself. Her hips were moving on their own accord and the noises coming from Sansa's lips were borderline animalistic. Her fingers moved faster and fast as she chased that unattainable goal. 

“Don't stop Sweetling.” He sound breathless as though he had just run a long distance. Sansa's head rested on the back of the chair. Her back was arched to the point that her bottom was the only part resting on the the leather. Her chest was heaving and her free hand gripped the receiver that was pressed against her ear. “Put two fingers inside of you, pretend that I'm the one doing it to you.” Sansa shifted her hand so her middle and pointer finger could slip inside her easily. Her thumb was pressed against her nub, going back to the motions her fingers were making. 

“Oh, Gods don't stop.” Her fingers were thrusting and curling inside of her. Her body was slick with sweat. Her heart was beating erratically and she had trouble breathing as her hand continued to thrust inside of her. She could feel that tension building inside of her and it caused her to work faster. Suddenly, her release was upon her and she was screaming. “Petyr! Yes! Petyr!” 

“Oh Sweetling.” Petyr stated in a calm and satisfied tone. He exhaled gently and Sansa smiled. She liked the idea of pleasing him even though she didn't do anything really. She wasn't completely naive to the male form but she never really thought on male self pleasure before. She assumed that listening to her must have gave him similar relief that she had experienced. “If our conversations start taking this turn, I will have to call you several times a day.” 

“I wouldn't mind that.” Her body had gone limp as she relaxed in her father's chair. She was still naked and could feel the room go chilly. The fire had diminished slightly but her body was far to relaxed to move. She didn't have enough energy to even cover herself. When she would pleasure herself, her release was nothing compared to what she just experienced. In the back of her mind she wondered what it would be like to have him touch her and for him to be the one to do those things to her. 

Petyr had once told her that the establishment he ran as a side business was less than reputable. In a smug tone he explained about the girls he employed and the deeds they were paid to do. She had blushed a bright shade of red when he explained how a girl would be paid to get on her knees and take a man's penis into her mouth. At first she had thought Petyr was simply toying with her but she later looked up the position in that book of Rob's she found. It was indeed something that transpired between a man and woman; Sansa had never felt to aroused in her life.

Certainly a man who ran such a business must know what he was doing. He would know how to make such relations pleasurable. At first she was put off about the idea of the whorehouse, even after he explained that Robert Baratheon himself was one of his best patrons, but now she was curious. What did it matter the kind of business he used to run? It didn't change the desire his voice sent through her body. It didn't change how she felt about him. The world had changed and the past no longer mattered. 

“Yes. I wouldn't mind speaking to you more.” Her heat did a flip. He wanted to speak to her more. He wanted to hear her words, moans and the sound of his name screaming from her lips. Yet, it was so much more than that. She was certain. It had to be. There was something more than the attraction of the flesh. They had never set eyes upon one another and all they had were their conversations. That must mean something. Their attraction was beyond the sallow first impressions of their looks. This was deeper and meant so much more. 

“Petyr?” 

“Yes Sweetling?”

“I love you.” His breath paused and he didn't reply. There was silence on the other side of the telephone. Sansa felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach and regret filled her. She shouldn't have said a word. She should have kept her feelings to herself and not ruined such a perfect moment. Instead she had to open her mouth. “Petyr?”

“I have to go.” With that the receiver clicked on the other end and the call was over. Sansa sat there in disbelief. She didn't know what to say or do. After a few moments, she picked herself up off of the leather chair and dressed herself. As she left the office, she looked back at the telephone; willing it to ring again. Instead it stayed silent. 

That telephone never rang again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turn of the century phone sex. I couldn't help myself. Really I couldn't.
> 
> Can we talk about the Battle of the Bastards for a second? I loved it. I think it is one of my favorite episodes this season yet. The entire time I was thinking "Where the fuck is the Vale? Petyr, where the fuck are you?" Then he appears with Sansa by his side and I felt that all was right in the world (even though we lost poor Rickon-but we all saw that coming). 
> 
> Now, smaragaide said in perfectly in the new fic she posted, either next week will make her very happy or incredibly angry. Same. I get that feeling as well. Although, I'm not as nervous for next weeks episode as I was for the Battle of the Bastards. Perhaps that me being foolish. I don't know.
> 
> Now, I'm off to write that one shot I promised on tumblr. I don't know what I will post it but I will try and have it up ASAP. I promise that I will work on Departed as well. Now, I have not forgotten Boden. I just need a small break from it for the time being. Hope you all understand!.


	4. Deafening

It had been three weeks since she had heard from him. She had gone back to listening to the silence and that there was nothing but Winterfell and winter. Sansa was once again alone. At first she would wait by that telephone but when it never rang, she eventually gave up. The first day she waited three hours but his voice never came. The second she waited two and then one until she never went back. She avoided the office all together because whenever she did enter it, all she could think about was Petyr. 

Sansa even stopped speaking; not even to the horses or to herself. She felt that eventually she would forget how to speak at all. The housework slipped away, Sansa falling out of routine. She just couldn't find the energy or the desire to do anything at all. Before Petyr, cleaning was a distraction and a way to cope with being alone. Now, beyond the necessities Sansa didn't do anything. She slept late in the day and then spent the rest of it either in the library or simply staring into the fire. Because she didn't utilize some parts of the castle, it grew a chill that was unbearable. 

The cold that would creep through the cracks in the stone walls and it froze Sansa. There was nothing left for her and Sansa began to realize just how alone and cold she was. The air was bitter and it seeped deep inside of her, making it impossible to feel anything else. She started to question the point of remaining in this frozen hell alone. The Gods have forsaken her, taking her family and everyone she held dear. For a breif moment, she had thought that maybe the Gods gave her a gift in the form of Petyr's voice but then they took him away too.

It was such a cruel thing to do. They gave her someone who was just more than company. She fell in love with him and the moment she spoke of her desires allowed, the rejection was harsher than she could ever imagine. At first she had thought that something happened to him. She had thought that he had died and left her alone. As she thought more on that moment the words slipped from her lips, she realized that he simply didn't love her. He would rather be alone than to accept her love. The cold was nothing compared to that. Telling him that she loved him were the last words she had spoken. Sansa vowed that they would be the last thing she ever said. There was no one else for her to whisper her sorrows to and there was no reason for her to speak at all. She found it fitting that those would be her last words, sentiments of love whispered into the frozen air. The words would remain there, building more tension until Sansa felt the cord of despair snap inside of her. 

She laid on the sofa in the library, not even reading. The flames flickered in the crate, causing the shadows to dance. Sansa just laid there watching them move and weave together. She wanted to join them because the shadows seemed so much more appealing than this empty vastness that surrounded her. She wondered if it would hurt. She heard once, a long time ago, that the cold would just freeze her body and she wouldn't feel any pain. It would be like falling asleep and maybe she would be with them again. Maybe she would be with him again. The cold was the only friend she had anymore and it almost seemed fitting that it would be the one to end it. One day she decided, she would just open the front door and walk out, never to return. Perhaps it would be tomorrow; or the day that. She didn't know. She just knew that was how she would leave; just by walking out the front door, never looking back. 

Dreams of a frozen slumber engulfed her vision that she almost didn't hear it. The sound was faint and almost nonexistent but one she hadn't heard in so long. It was a sound she had thought was gone forever; it rang so loudly than ever before. It was the sound of tires running over snow. Sansa had thought she had gone mad for a moment because the sound stopped. It wasn't until she heard the distinct noise of a motor pushing itself beyond its capabilities. She sat up quickly and focused. The silence seemed so much louder, drowning out anything she wanted to hear; and then she heard it again. Tires screeching in the snow, stuck and unable to move forward. 

Sansa stood from the sofa and grabbed the blanket in order to wrap it around herself; still listening to the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. It was off in a distance but close enough for her to hear. She placed one foot in front of the other, slowing making her way to the front door. Her mind screamed for her to open the door and see what was on the other side but she couldn't. Her legs were frozen simply staring at the blank wood. If she opened it and there was nothing there, she knew that she would just end it all. This was her last moment of sanity and if she had lost it completely because of the loneliness, there was no point in continuing. So waited and what felt like a lifetime, she heard a knock on the door. It was faint but so very real. 

Like a bullet, Sansa's hand reached out and turned the knob; whipping the door open. There on the other side of the door stood the most beautiful thing she had ever seen; another human being. She knew that it was him. She didn't need to hear his voice to confirm. She had memorized that photograph. She knew every inch of his face. A few years had been added on but she knew it was him, even with the beard and mustache. It was Petyr. 

Petyr stepped forward as though he was in a trance, memorized by the sight of her. She understood the feeling. Neither of them had seen another living soul since the rest of the world fell away. Just the sight of the something alive was overwhelming but for it to be Petyr, Sansa thought her heart would combust. There was an building tension in her chest that she didn't know how to handle. She didn't know whether to cry or laugh or just break down so instead she stayed silent; not knowing what to say. 

Petyr reached out and touched her face. His hands were cold. He wore no gloves even though his thick black coat covered everything else. The tips of his fingers traced her cheekbone and her lips. Sansa's eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of being touched by another human. The contact was almost unbearable. Petyr cupped her cheek and brought his head closer to hers. Their foreheads touched and she could feel the warmth of breath and the smell of mint engulfed her. This was contact and this was a connection that she hadn't felt in such a long time. If the wind hadn't forcefully howled outside, they might not have broken apart. 

Sansa jumped and rushed behind him, closing the door tightly. Once it was shut she rested her back against the wood. She looked at him and in only took a moment before she was reaching for him again. She grasped his hands and felt how frostbitten they were. She pressed her lips and blew her warm breath upon them, hoping it would ease the freezing pain he must have felt. She gave his hands a light kiss before linking their fingers together. 

She pulled him toward the library where the the fire was still roaring. When Petyr saw the fire he dropped her hands and knelt before the flames. He reached out hoping to warm his hands. Sansa just stood there and watched him. He tore off his coat, tossing it aside and revealed nothing more than a white button down, blank pants and matching suspenders. Eventually she strolled toward him and placed her hand on his shoulder. He turned and looked at her. 

When he stood, Sansa reached out and pulled him to her causing the blanket she had wrapped around her to fall to the ground. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her chest to him. She could feel his hand on the small of her back and his thumb stroking her. It sent a shiver down her spine. She sucked in a breath and buried her face into his neck. They swayed for a moment, just enjoying the feel of another person. When Sansa lifted her head and looked directly into his eyes, she couldn't help but feel that familiar tug in her heart whenever she had heard is voice. 

Petyr tilted his head and leaned in, brushing his lips against her. The kiss was gentle at first, nothing more than a few gentle strokes of his mouth. Soon, Petyr moved his hand up into her hair, weaving the red curls between his fingers. His tongue slipped out and begged for entrance into her mouth. She granted him access as she pulled him closer to her. She molded her body against his but it wasn't close enough. She needed to feel him. She need that physical connection that had been lost to her. 

Their mouths battled for dominance but neither willing to surrender to the other. It was Sansa who broke away first. Petyr's mouth traveled down her jaw bone her her neck while she tried to catch her breath. He sucked on her neck but she could only breath; no sound left her lips. Her head was tossed back and her neck exposed to him, giving full access to her pulse point. As he nipped and licked at her, Sansa's legs became weak and she nearly fell into him. He tensed his arms and held his body to hers, his lips never breaking away from her neck.

Slowly he lowered them to their knees. Her hands roaming his clothed chest itching to feel more of him. It wasn't enough. She pushed the suspenders that held up his pants off of his shoulders until they hung lose around his waist. Her hands went to work on the buttons of his shirt. As she worked, Petyr took her lips in a feverish kiss again. The feeling of his lips caused her focus on the shirt to waiver but eventually she was able to get the shirt to hang open. She pulled the tails from his pants and Petyr moved his arms so the shirt could slip off easily. Once the offending fabric was tossed aside, his hands moved to touch her again. 

Sansa tugged on the undershirt and they broke apart in order for her to pull it over his head. Seeing his bare skin, Sansa reached out and touched his chest. There was a long scar that ran from his collarbone to his navel. She ran her finger down the length of it and she could feel him shudder under his touch. Her eyes flickered to his and he seemed so vulnerable. Never breaking eye contact, she leaned in and kissed the top of the scar. She started to move her way down his chest, making sure to kiss every inch of the scar that she could. 

Once she was done, she placed her hand on his chest and gently pushed him backwards. He sat down and his back was pressed against the sofa. His legs sprawled out in front of him and Sansa reached for the boots on his feet. She untied each before pulling them off and pushing them away. His socks were soon to follow. When his feet were bare, she crawled up his lap and began to unfasten the buckles on his pants. When it was undone she pulled at the pants and the long-johns that were underneath in order to get them down his legs. Petyr lifted his hips in order to make the removal easier. The pants reached his ankles and they too were then tossed aside. 

Petyr sat in front of her completely naked, only warmed by her touch and the fire going beside them. She looked at all of him. She saw the grey that was weaved through his jet black hair and the lean muscle of his chest. She saw how his beard flickered when he smirked at her and how his eyes danced over her. She saw the erect member standing at attention waiting for someone to touch it. She could feel her own wetness between her legs and she knew what she wanted. 

She pulled at the ties of her thick robe that she wore in order to keep her warm. She pushed it off her shoulders and wore nothing more than the cotton nightgown that was thin enough to show the outline of her body. Her nipples hardened and it was obvious through the fabric. Sansa straddled his lap and sat down slightly. His member slid over her slit and she hissed. Petyr's eyes fluttered at the contact and as if on instinct his hips bucked. 

She continue rotating her hips, uncertain was what she was to do. When he saw her uncertainty, Petyr took the fabric of her nightgown and bunched it at her waist. The lower part of her was revealed and he grasped her hips with one hand and his member in the other. He aligned himself at her entrance and pushed gently on her hips. She knew what he wanted her to do so she lowered herself down onto him. His face constricted as her warmth surrounded him. Lower and lower she went until she felt a pinch but she didn't let it stop her. 

Once he was fully inside of her, Sansa stopped and looked at him. She felt full and connected to him. It was as close as she could get to him but it wasn't enough; there was something more she wanted. He saw the question in her eyes and both of his hands gripped her hips. He started to move her up and down on top of him. He slid in and out of her and the feeling was incredible. Soon she was able to grasp the movement on her own but Petyr never let go. She rested her hands on top of his. 

She rode him. She followed his guidance. His hips would buck up into her as she slid back down onto him. She felt her center pulse but she couldn't stop. The pleasure was intense and magnificent but she wanted him closer. She let go of his hands and started to yank at her nightgown. Understanding what she was trying to accomplish, Petyr moved his hands from the parts of the fabric he was holding down. Sansa moved the nightgown over her head and threw it aside. She was completely naked and the sight of her riding him caused him to groan. He reached out and grasped at her breast. He toyed with her nippled and it sent a shock wave through her. She tossed her head back and arched her back but didn't stop moving. She couldn't let go of the feeling he was giving her. 

As she rode him faster and faster, Petyr grabbed her and crushed her to his chest. The new position caused her to moan again. He was hitting different spots inside of her now. He kissed her again and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. They were close as they could possibly get; he was inside of her in every way possible but if she could grow closer to him, she would. There was a tension building inside of her that she needed to chase. She found herself going faster and faster until she felt that bliss take over her body again. 

While she allowed the wave of pleasure take over her body, Petyr laid her down on the ground; never slipping out of her body. Her legs spread for him and allowed him to pound inside of her. It was a furious motion but still brought her pleasure. His member was brushing over her nub. Her eyes focused on his face and he was lost in her. His eyes poured into her and she knew that he was searching for that moment of release. He started pounding faster and harder. He dropped his head into her shoulder as he was losing control. 

She placed her hands on his shoulders, still reeling from her release and watched the shadows dance on the ceiling. They were the same shadows caused by the fire merely an hour ago. In that time, Sansa changed her mind. She no longer wanted to be apart of them. There was only one thing she wanted. She wanted what was inside of her. She wanted the man who was defiling her body. She wanted that connection over and over again. 

Sansa would never be alone again. 

Petyr stilled above her and she felt his seed spill inside of her. His body was rigid and stiff. His muscles tightened with his climax. He relaxed but didn't pull out of her. His breathing slowed and Sansa drew light lines on his back. She didn't want to let him go. She knew that he would have to leave her body but the idea seemed painful. She had just felt him. It was the first real connection she had and she didn't want it to end. She wanted to stay in that moment for the rest of her life. 

Petyr laughed into her shoulder. He kissed her neck and then her cheek. He trailed kisses all along her face as though he was thanking her. They were gentle and kind; kisses made out of pure joy. He kissed her lips but it wasn't passionate like the others. It was familiar and meant something so much more. It was the kiss that he traveled hundreds of miles for. It was the kiss that he braved the winter for. He was safe in the south. He was warm but it meant nothing with her strained in a frozen hell. 

“My love.” Petyr whispered to her and her heart soared. He didn't abandon her. It was becoming real now. The passion of the moment was fading and reality was setting in. Sansa was no longer alone. He was here. He was touching her. He was inside her. He was real. And he loved her. It made losing the rest of the world not even matter. He loved her. “My love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we only have one more chapter left after this one. This chapter I feel is the most important one. I didn't want them to speak. I wanted this chapter to be about contention and feeling someone for the first time. This is the first time they had any real physical connection since the world went away. They suddenly see a human, something they haven't seen in over a year, and it was the one person they love. I felt that this chapter shouldn't have any dialogue at all because I felt that it would take away from it some how. 
> 
> And then Sunday happened. 
> 
> When Petyr whispered "My love" in the Godswood, I knew I have to include that here. Sansa was so unsure of his feelings towards her that I needed to end this chapter on "My love".


	5. Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So remember when I said this was the last chapter? I lied. See end notes for more details.

Sansa laid in the bed, eyes closed and just listened to the fire crackle. She was on her stomach, her naked breast pressed into the sheets. The sheet was over her naked bottom but her back was bare to the empty world. She stretched and looked to her side. The bed was empty but Sansa didn't mind. She knew that Petyr wouldn't leave without her. He traveled all the way from King's Landing to Winterfell for her; he wasn't about to abandon her now. She had him six times in the night. In between their spirits of intimacies, some fast and hard while others were slow and loving, they would speak in hushed tones. They couldn't get enough of each other. Words were spoken between them during those moments. They had six months of just speaking and now they needed to feel one another. When they were done they simply relaxed in each others arms until one or both feel asleep. 

Petyr would make invisible lines up and down her back while his voice spoke in soft tones. Sansa's head would rest on his chest, listening to his voice and the sound of his heart beating. They spoke of everything they could think of and for the first time Petyr was more open to answering her questions. In a world where people still existed, Sansa thought she should be wary of such a dangerous man but there was no one left but the two of them. Why should she be concerned when there was nothing left. Petyr wouldn't harm or dispose of her because then he would be alone. And if his words were true the night before, he loved her far to much to harm her. 

Sansa sat up in her bed and shivered. The sheet slide farther down and her nipples hardened in the cold air. The fire was crackling but she could see the flames dying down. She pushed the rest of the sheets off of her body and slid out of bed. Her feet hit the cold wooden floor and felt the winter seeping through the stone walls. Her arms encircled herself as she rubbed her hands against her arms in order to create heat. She quickly rushed over to the fire in order to build it up again. 

Completely focused on her task, Sansa did not hear the door to her chamber open. Petyr leaned against the doorframe and watched her. He had seen every inch of her body the night before and once that morning but there was something about just watching her naked body work. He cocked his head at her back side and smirked. She was far more beautiful than he had imagined during all those nights alone after the world went away. 

He wondered if she was like her mother during the early days of their acquaintance. He prayed that she wasn't. His feelings for Catelyn had disappeared years prior. Subconsciously, Petyr touched the scar on his naked chest and a flash of hate coursed through him. Catelyn was the reason he almost died, favoring Ned over himself, especially after Ned impregnated her. He laid on the ground, remains of Ned's champagne glass from his wedding toast in his chest, dying. If it hadn't been for Lysa and Edmure, Petyr would have died on the same day Catelyn married Ned. Catelyn never spoke to him again. When he was married to Lysa he learned that Ned had changed from the quick tempered and jealous man after the birth of his first son. 

Petyr didn't care if Ned became a saint and Catelyn viewed as one of the Seven, he never wanted to see her again. If he did, Petyr didn't know how he would be able to keep his hands from choking the life out of her. He would have killed her just like he killed Lysa, the woman who stole his innocence. Sansa knew that he killed his first wife but she didn't know that it was her aunt; something he refused to tell her. As he got to know Sansa and as he fell in love with her, he realized that she was nothing like Catelyn. She was something so much more. 

Petyr couched lightly and Sansa jumped, nearly falling backwards. He chuckled and smirked at her while she simply glared at him. Petyr was wearing nothing more than his trousers from the night before. His feet and chest were bare. He didn't seemed to be freezing and Sansa didn't understand how for she was completely naked and freezing. Yet, he didn't even seem to be shivering at all. 

“Sorry, my love but natured called.” He pushed off the archway and made his way toward her. He held out his hand to her and Sansa took it. As Petyr pulled her up and into his arms. He inspected her naked body and Sansa had the urge to cover herself. If Petyr wasn't holding her, she would have. In the back of her mind she found it silly because he had seen every inch of her the night before but now her sense of modesty was coming back to her. “I can get used to seeing you this way everyday.”

“Thats easy enough. I don't plan on leaving.” Sansa kissed him lightly on his lips and smiled into them. “Come back to bed. It's freezing.” She took his hand in hers and pulled him toward the bed. Petyr went willingly. Sansa crawled on the bed, showing her backside to him, her modesty forgotten again. She knew that he was admiring it and to tease him she quickly covered herself with the sheet again. She threw him a cheeky smile because she could see the discontent in his eyes with her newly covered body.

Slowly, Petyr pushed off his trousers, pushing them to the floor. Sansa eyes wondered over him, blushing at the sight of his fully erect member. Her mouth watered at the sight of it as her mind flashed to his tongue and the sinful things he did to her with it. She sat up in the bed but still kept her sheet pressed to her. Petyr climbed on the bed at her but she put a hand on his chest, pushing him to lie down. Petyr followed her command. 

Sansa crawled on top of him, straddled him and kissed his lips. Her wet heat brushed across his fully erect member and both of them groaned. His hips bucked upward but Sansa refused to align herself with him. Once their kiss broke, she got a wicked grin on her lips and started to kiss down his jaw. Her tongue flickered over his skin and she nipped him with her teeth. He hissed but never stopped her. Instead he was finding it insanely arousing to simply watch her. 

Sansa kissed her way down his chest, circling his nipples with her tongue and licking certain parts of the scar on his chest. Her eyes drifted upward to see him watching her and it only urged her onward. His ever filthy smirk was present and Sansa bit her lip before taking his member in hand. She kissed the top of it before giving in one long lick. Petyr hissed at the pleasure but didn't look away from her. With one lingering look, Sansa parted her lips and took his member into his mouth. 

Petyr's eyes rolled back and his head leaned against the headboard. His hand went into her red curls and he guided her movements. In that moment he couldn't decide what felt better, her mouth or being inside of her. He enjoyed the painful but pleasurable feeling she was creating. He couldn't help but think about how ironic and deceptive this was. Here Sansa was, on all fours in front of him, sucking him off; he couldn't help but grin at the thought. She was the daughter of the man who nearly killed him. The daughter of the woman he once loved but grew to hate. She was the niece of the woman who stole his innocence; and he loved her. 

What he wouldn't give for Ned Stark to be alive and for him to watch as Petyr defiled his precious daughter over and over again.....and then he would marry her. The last part was due to his emotions and Petyr knew that. It didn't stop him wanting to make her his bride. It wasn't possible now, with the world all gone but she would at least be his. Maybe she was his reward or punishment. He didn't know. All he knew was that he wished he could see Ned as he was faced with Petyr for the remainder of his life. Petyr was Ned's reminder of the man he used to be and how he nearly killed a man at his own wedding. Maybe Catelyn changed him. Or maybe Petyr caught him at the wrong time but Petyr still hated him. It made falling in love with his daughter just that much sweeter. 

“My love.” Petyr grunted out. He could feel his release building but he didn't want to come like this. No, he wanted to but buried deep inside her before spilling inside of her. He knew the risk and he didn't care. He just wanted to be closer to her. If she had his child, what did it matter anyway? She is to young. He is too old. None of that mattered anymore. “Sweetling. Sansa stop.” Petyr pulled on her hair and Sansa allowed his member to slide out of her mouth. Petyr roughly pulled her onto his lap and kissed her passionately. 

As their lips fought for dominance, Petyr pulled on her hair again in order to yank her backwards. Sansa hissed but Petyr knew she enjoyed the sharp tug of her hair. One thing he learned about her since he arrived at Winterfell was that she liked a bit of pain with her pleasure. Sansa's back hit the mattress and Petyr was on top of her in an instant. Her legs parted and he settled between them easily. He kissed her with the same fervor as before and brushed his member against her slit. Sansa groaned into his mouth at the contact. 

Petyr aligned himself with her entrance and pushed inside. They both hissed and groaned at the feeling of him being inside her. He didn't remain still for long. Just as fast as he pushed inside, Petyr began withdrawing, only to thrust hard inside again. Over and over he did this and each time Sansa screamed out his name. He wasn't gentle but neither was she. Sansa nipped and bit at his skin. Her nails dug into his back and she could feel tiny bits of blood on her fingertips. Neither of them cared, instead they just kept fucking. Harder and harder until both of them arched and climaxed together. Petyr pulled out of her and rolled off of her. He laid beside her, the sheet sticking to his back. Both of them were panting and sweating. Petyr reached between them and took Sansa's hand. He brought it up to his lips and kissed the back of it. 

Later, Petyr laid on his stomach with Sansa by his side. She was touching the marks she left on his back, tracing the bright red marks. She would lean down and kiss them from time to time, Petyr hissing each time. She felt guilty for causing him pain but his indulging grin only told her that he enjoyed the after pain of their coupling. It was lazy movements but they both enjoyed the closeness of each other and Petyr liked feeling her touch. Neither one of them were able to go without touching one another for long; and it wasn't always sexual. Just the feel of another person brought comfort to them because they went without it for so long. 

“I'm sorry if I hurt you.” Sansa stated as she traced another scratch mark. When she first saw them, she had hid her face in her hands out of embarrassment. Petyr took them away, kissed her palms and told her that there was nothing to be embarrassed about; he would enjoy the marks because they reminded him of how she touched him. Now, Sansa was fascinated by the marks because she left them. 

“Don't apologize. Besides, I marked you as well.” Petyr reached out and grasped her hip, palming a large bruise on her skin. In the midst of their time together, Sansa didn't feel his hands on her hips at all or the fact that he was gripping to hard. All she felt was the pleasure he was causing her. Sansa pulled her hand away from his back and laid down to look at him. Petyr hoovered over her slightly and leaned down to kiss her. She smiled into his lips. He then kissed the top of her head before resting resting his on her chest. Sansa began running her hands through his hair, enjoying him being close. 

“I don't ever want to leave this bed.” 

“We'll have to leave.” Petyr replied, causing Sansa to roll her eyes.

“I know that...”

“No. Sweetling. We will have to leave.” Petyr lifted his head in order to look at her. Surly she had realized why he had come. He couldn't allow them to just remain in the cold vast of nothing. Winter was here and the longer they stayed in the North, the faster they would die. “Sansa, we have to leave Winterfell and the North. We have to head south.” 

Sansa looked at him as though he had three heads. She huffed and pushed him away before crawling out of bed. Baffled, Petyr followed her and watched her dress herself in a furious haste. Not sure exactly what he said wrong, Petyr wanted to wait and see what she was going to say next. She buttoned his white shirt over his body because it was the first thing she could grab. 

“If you were planning on just leaving, why did you come at all?” She grabbed a pillow that at some point and been tossed aside and threw it full force toward Petyr. He caught it easily and tossed it on the bed. He held out his hand and stepped toward her as though he was approaching a caged animal. “Did this mean nothing to you? Were all your pretty words just lies to get a quick lay?” 

“Sweetling, think about what you're saying. Why would I face near death in the cold to simply get in your nickers? I came to get you. I wasn't about to leave you here in the middle of winter to die.” He could see her mind working behind her ice blue eyes and he placed his hands on the side of her cheeks. “I came because I love you. I came because I couldn't hearing your voice without being able to touch you. When you said you loved me, I knew that I couldn't leave you. I need you by my side.” 

“I can't leave Winterfell.”

“Why? What is holding you here?” Sansa didn't reply but Petyr knew what was coursing through her mind. This was the last thing she had left of her family. Their faces and voices had faded from her mind but she still missed them. Winterfell was the only thing that kept them alive to her. Abandoning Winterfell would be like abandoning her family. Sansa wasn't sure if she could do that. She had thought that Petyr and herself would be able to brave the winter together. “Your family is gone. They aren't coming back. If you stay here, you'll die. Do you honestly think your family would want you to die here when there was a way for you to live? Winterfell is nothing more than a stone prison. What made it a home is gone.” 

Sansa looked deeply into his eyes and knew that he spoke truth but it wasn't that easy. Winterfell may just be stone and walls to him but to her, it was more than a home, it was family. Winterfell had been apart of her family for generations. She was a Stark and a Stark must always be in Winterfell. She was the last Stark left, how could she leave now? She moved out of his arms and walked over to the window. Outside the snow was falling. It was heavier than before but not unbearable. Soon, it would become unforgiving and she wouldn't be able to leave Winterfell at all. The electric would go out and the sun would stop rising. Sansa would be in complete darkness. Would her family really want that for her? Was Winterfell worth that?

Petyr came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He pulled her to his chest and rested his head on her shoulder. He held her close and tight. Sansa knew that he wasn't going to let go. If she was stubborn and refused to leave, she knew deep down that he would stay. He would stay with her because if he didn't, it meant being alone again. But if he stayed, Sansa would be killing them both. 

“Where would we go?” 

“I don't know. South. King's Landing. Dorne maybe.” She had never been to those places. She had always been trapped in the North. Her mother had promised that once winter had passed, they would head south and participate in the season. She would be out to the court and hopefully find a husband. She wondered if she would have met Petyr there and if her parents would have approved of him. “The winter is never hard in King's Landing and hardly even touches Dorne. It might get a chill but it never snows.” 

“No snow?” Sansa grew up with snow. It had always been apart of her. To imagine a place where it was warm baffled her. The idea was terrifying and a bit exciting. She wondered what warm would be like because she had always been surrounded by snow and the cold. In the back of her mind she couldn't help but feel that was all she was meant for. Petyr chuckled and kissed her shoulder.

“No snow. Baffling isn't it?” She knew that he was teasing her and she might have smacked his chest if she was in the teasing state of mind. Yet, her thoughts were still coming to terms with the idea of leaving. Petyr could sense her mood and kissed her head. “Once winter is over we might head to the Reach. The land is fertile there and it would be easy to start a farm or something in order to survive.” Sansa would never see Winterfell again. She closed her eyes and small tear escaped. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Sansa turned in his arms and nodded her head. Petyr sighed in relief and kissed the top of her head. He pulled her tightly against him and buried his face in her flaming red hair. “Thank you.” She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. “We will have to pack as much as we can. Food, clothes, anything. We will have to leave at first light.” Sansa nodded into his shoulder but didn't respond. “The trip wont be easy but should calm down once we reach the Vale.” The parted slightly and he looked in here eyes. “Are you okay with this?”

“I have to be.” It was the truth. She didn't want to leave but she didn't want to stay either. She wanted Petyr and if traveling south meant she could keep him, then that is what she was willing to do. Suddenly she had a future. Sansa had forgotten what that felt like. She could see it. She could see the sun rising and the warmth touching her skin. She could feel his arms around her and the sound of everything they could build. Her future was full of life and she would never feel loneliness again. She leaned in and kissed him. “ I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, after writing this chapter, I realized it just didn't feel right as the end. I needed something else that just wouldn't feel right in this chapter. So, there will be one more and then it is completed.


	6. Bliss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, the last chapter. I hope that it lives up to any expectations that might have been had!

Dorne was scorching hot. It took Sansa a long while to get used to the heat that would beat down upon her skin. When Petyr and Sansa had left Winterfell, Sansa had watched the castle fade away and be engulfed in snow. The journey was hard and difficult. The vehicle had gotten stuck several times and Sansa thought on a few occasions that she was going to freeze to death but once they crossed into the Riverlands, the snow seemed to slow. When they stopped in the evening, they would find lodging in many abandoned homes. Most places had their own storages of food and provisions that would last them for the brief period of time they stayed there.

Once they passed through the mountains of the Vale the travel became much easier. The snow was all but gone, except for at the top of the mountains and it was smooth sailing. Once they reached King's Landing, Petyr wanted to stop at his apartment in order to get more of his clothing. Sansa's curiosity of the home he built for himself was immense. It was clean and sparse, as though he didn't spend much time there. It was small but she couldn't imagine it any other way. Petyr had said that he spent more time at the office even when he was married. Sansa felt sad for him.

They ended up staying at his apartment for a few weeks in order to relax and recuperate from three weeks of driving and traveling. She enjoyed them living in such a small space because it created more intimacies between them that hadn't been there before. They spent six months speaking on the telephone and when they were finally physically together, their desires and need for human touch took over. Now, those two aspects started to balance themselves out and they were able to build on the relationship they had. They had to because there was no one else for them to be with or touch; or so they thought.

It wasn't until they had been in Dorne for a year when she came. A silver haired woman with ten followers behind her. Sansa learned that Petyr and she were not the only people left behind. Her name was Daenerys, the princess of Mereen. Her brother, King Viserys, and the rest of her kingdom had vanished with the rest of the world, including her young son. She had left in search of any other living soul. She found a few people. A woman who looked more like a man, Brienne Tarth; the Tyrell siblings, Margaery and Lores along with the prime minister’s brother Renly who had be living alone in the Stormlands.

Others came after them, wanting to flee the oncoming winter storm. Soon, Dorne was filled with at least one hundred people. No one came after. One hundred. That was all that was left in the world, until it was one hundred and one. Why those people? It was something Sansa had asked herself over and over again but could never find the answer and apart of her didn't want to know. All she knew was that she enjoyed the new found village they had created and the relationship she had with Petyr. Petyr enjoyed it too because he quickly was able to gain favor with the Princess who seemed to be in charge of everything. The game was back and Petyr was a pro at it.

She enjoyed watching him. He played everyone and was truly in control, despite what others around him thought. Daenerys often refereed to Petyr as one of her most trusted advisors. When it came to breaking up feud or who got what villa or some other task that came with ruling a small village. She would come to Petyr for council and Sansa would just smile as he weaved his web in order for Daenerys to do exactly what he wanted. Petyr controlled everything but Sansa controlled Petyr. In the beginning, when asked about their relationship, Petyr introduced Sansa as his wife, even though they were not technically married. She wanted no one else. There were several handsome young men that had come to Dorne but she didn't want them. Having other people around made her realize that she loved him more than anything else.

“Benjen! Stay close!” Sansa called out only to hear squealing laughter in return. She shook her head and ran after her three year old son. She had never realized how fast a small child could run when their mind was set. Sansa's long legs caught up with him quickly and she bent down to scoop him up in to her arms. Benjen's laughter filled the old Martell garden. She tickled his stomach which only made him laugh harder. “Gotcha!” She spun around, allowing the sun to catch them both. “Shall we go see papa?”

Benjen squealed, giggled and clapped his hands at hearing the name “Papa”. Sansa was amazed at how close and protective Petyr was of their son. There were not many children in the village, only a few, and Petyr was very weary of allowing his son alone with anyone who wasn’t Sansa and himself. Of course there were a few trusted people, such as Daenerys or Margaery, but not many. As for the children, Benjen only had a few children his age to play with but enough to make sure that he is socialized properly.

Petyr made sure that his son wanted for nothing. He would bend over backwards in order to ensure that Benjen was protected, even from such a small group of people. When Petyr spent time with his son, Sansa loved watching the smile and the glint in his eye. It was as though he had never been happier than he was holding the small boy in his arms. She knew that Petyr loved her, just as she loved him but this was different and something far more. This was the love shared between a father and his son. She had seen it every time Ned would look at Robb, Bran or Rickon.

Sansa reached down and caressed her flat stomach. She hadn’t told him yet. She remembered the fear in his eyes when she told him about Benjen. It was before they knew that there were others in the world. Both were concerned that their child would one day be alone. That he would never know love or affection beyond them; that he would never have the chance to be a father himself. Now, she knew that any children they had, they would have the opportunity to grow and have families of their own. Their tiny village wasn’t like the big society that she had grown used to. They didn’t have classes or any other type of divide between the people; or so the people thought. There was of course Daenerys, who for all purposes was the Princess. She had her trusted advisors, such as Petyr but no one person was above another, or at least that was how it appeared.

She knew that Petyr was going to be thrilled at the news of another child. She saw the love between him and Benjen, she knew that this child would also be cherished. This time the news of a pregnancy would be welcomed and Sansa had less fear. Now she would have people around her who knew what to expect. She wouldn’t have the fear of giving birth alone with no knowledge of what was going to happen. She didn’t have the fear of dying and leaving Petyr alone with an infant to care for.  
“Come on silly one. Let’s go find your father.” Benjen wrapped his arms around his mother’s neck and his eyes began widely searching for Petyr. She knew that Petyr was discussing an issue with Daenerys and that the meeting would soon be over. Benjen would soon have to go down for his nap and Petyr was always able to put him down better than she was. Benjen was certainly close with his father and Sansa wondered if perhaps this child she now carried would be hers. It wasn’t that she was jealous but Petyr had a bond with Benjen that she just didn’t have.

They walked through the old Martell garden. It was the home of the new Princess but Sansa found that they spent a good amount of time there. When they had come to Dorne, Sansa had not wanted the Martell manner but something a bit smaller but still beautiful. When Daenerys had come, it seemed only fitting that she have the home of the former Dornish ruler. The home was elegant, Sansa had to admit and she could see the changes that the Princess had made but the gardens remained the same. 

“Papa!” Benjen squealed when Petyr came into view. Petyr was sitting at a table with Daenerys on one of the balconies that overlooked the fountains and beautify array of flowers. Daenerys’s white-blonde hair was piled on top of her hair. She was wearing a long dress that brought out her curves but was light in order to stand the warm heat. Her clothing was far more scandalous than Sansa was used to and the old society would have looked down upon the Princess for her attire. However, the culture in Mereen was far different than the one in Westeros. She was beautiful but there was something more to her that Sansa could not place. Daenerys had taken a few lovers since relocating to Dorne but she seemed so much more than that. Sansa had been concerned that Petyr would want her but he promised to take no other lover. She trusted him and knew that while he might be a liar, he would never lie to her. Petyr would never bed Daenerys.

Petyr’s head snapped up and his smile grew wide. Sansa put Benjen down and the young toddler ran as fast as his small legs would allow him. Petyr stood from his seat and bent down, catching his son as he tumbled into his arms. He tossed Benjen in the air causing the small boy to cry out in joy. Sansa’s heart stopped for a moment, until her son was safe back in Petyr’s arms. Petyr’s head snapped up and his smile grew wide. Sansa put Benjen down and the young toddler ran as fast as his small legs would allow him. Petyr stood from his seat and bent down, catching his son as he tumbled into his arms. He tossed Benjen in the air causing the small boy to cry out in joy. Sansa’s heart stopped for a moment, until her son was safe back in Petyr’s arms. Petyr threw Sansa a cheeky grin, knowing how terrified Sansa got when he tossed their child in the air. It was a constant scolding Petyr got from Sansa but he did it anyway.

Sansa’s eyes flickered to Daenerys and saw the sad look upon the Princess’s face. It was common knowledge that her husband had died years prior and that her own son had also vanished when the rest of the world did. Whenever she interacted with any child, Daenerys always grew slightly somber, as though she was missing something in her life. Sansa could never imagine the pain of losing Benjen and sympathized with her. She couldn’t imagine the pain that she would feel if she lost Benjen or the child she currently carried.

“Your son is sweet.”

“Thank you.”

“Petyr, tomorrow?” Petyr nodded but didn’t look away from Benjen, who was still laughing in his father’s arms. Daenerys gave a gentle smile before heading inside the manner. Petyr shifted Benjen to his hip and held out his hand for Sansa. She took his hand gladly and he then he pulled her toward the garden, knowing that he was going to lead her toward the exit and back to their personal villa. Sansa leaned into him as they walked and smiled at the comfort.

“What is tomorrow?” 

“There is an issue regarding Septon Sparrow and Lores Tyrell.” Sansa nodded in understanding. She had developed a friendship with Lores’s sister, Margaery and she knew that the issues Septon Sparrow was causing. Sparrow had been a devout and religious follower of the Seven. He preached their ways and fully believed that it was them who took the people from the world. He also believed that a man, taking another man as a lover was immoral. When he learned that Lores Tyrell and Renly Baratheon were having relations with each other, something that wasn’t exactly hidden, he began attacking them, with the last altercation landing Lores in chains in the town square for public humiliation. Daenerys had quickly had Lores released and sent home; now she was stepping in with the issues. “There is to be a hearing soon and our Princess needs council on how to proceed.”

“For who? Sparrow or Lores and Renly?” The acts of the Sparrow have been disrupting the community as a whole but the relationship between Lores and Renly was shocking to some. Romantic relationships between two men were not uncommon in the old society but it wasn’t something that was spoken about aloud. Everyone turned a blind eye and it had been the same in such a small community until Sparrow had gotten wind of the situation. Now people were taking sides and there was confrontation, making it difficult for others to live in peace. Daenerys had ordered Sparrow to stay away from Lores and Renly and vice versa. 

“That has yet to be seen.” Sansa wasn’t sure what Petyr was going to in this regards. It depended on which outcome he could see favoring them. He knew that if he somehow had the Sparrow discarded or punished he could create a very complicated enemy, if the Sparrow learned of the role he played but on the other hand, he could make a very powerful ally out of Lores Tyrell and in return his lover who had respect because of who his brother used to be. “But let’s not speak of unpleasantness on such beautiful day.”

“Then what would you like to discuss?” 

“How about how beautiful you are?” Petyr replied and Sansa laughed. There was a glint in his eye and she could see that he was in a playful mood. She always enjoyed Petyr like this; the Petyr who had exactly what he wanted and how he was willing to share affection when he was pleased. It was moments like this that Sansa wanted to tell him. That she wanted to blurt out their impending arrival but something always held her back. It was never the right moment and Sansa wanted it to be perfect; she wanted to see his joy instead of fear like the last time she discovered she was pregnant. 

“Smooth. Very smooth.” Petyr chuckled and leaned in to kiss her lips. It was a quick peck but enough to cause Benjen to screech out and clap his hands. Whenever Petyr would kiss Sansa in front of the toddler, Benjen would demand attention of his own. While the small boy was extremely close with his father, he still got jealous when Petyr tried to be affectionate with Sansa in front of him. There were times when Petyr found the jealousy annoying and humorous but did nothing about it because they both knew it was a phase that he would eventually grow out of. The couple stopped and Sansa moved in front of them in order to kiss Benjen’s cheek. The small boy laughed loudly and hit his father’s shoulder in excitement. “Oh you’re such a silly boy.”

“He is isn’t he?” Petyr began kissing and blowing raspberry’s on the little boy’s stomach. Benjen’s laughter grew louder and louder until it was echoing off the stone walls that engulfed the Martell garden. Sansa just watched the scene before her and there was a strong emotion of love that just filled her. Watching the father of her child play with their son was always heartwarming to her. It was nothing like she had ever experienced before. She placed her hand on her stomach and caressed it.   
When Petyr was done teasing Benjen he looked up at her and she held out her hand. He took it willingly and Sansa brought it up to her lips. Benjen fussed but neither paid him no mind. Petyr was looking at with question in his eyes. He could tell that there was something on her mind. They never broke eye contact with each other and their son’s babble fell into the background. Sansa knew that she had to tell him; for she felt that there was no other moment but this one. 

“I know something we could talk about.” Petyr didn’t respond but kept his gaze on her. The hand that she was holding was brought down to her stomach and she laid it flat so he was palming it. It took a moment but there was recognition in his eyes. He looked at her with completely and utter disbelief but there was no trace of disappointment. Instead there was nothing but wonder and for a moment, Sansa thought that Petyr might have tears in his eyes. 

“Truly?” 

“Yes.” Sansa whispered back and Petyr sat Benjen on the ground. Petyr knelt down in front of her, not caring if his trousers were getting dirty. His hands went to her hips and he rested his ear against her stomach as though he was trying to hear the child inside of her. He sat there for a few moments and Sansa placed her hands in his hair. Benjen giggled and lunged forward, wrapping his small arms around his father’s neck. Without moving, Petyr pulled his son into a tight embrace. He kissed the top of Benjen’s head before releasing him. Petyr pulled himself from the ground and then embraced Sansa. He squeezed her tightly and buried his face into her hair. 

“Thank you.” He whispered to her and then kissed the shell of her ear. Sansa closed her eyes and just let herself feel. There was a point in her life, when the world first disappeared that she thought she would never be happy again and that she would be alone for the rest of her days. Now she has a man who loves her, a son who is the light of her existence and a new child that would be born soon. No matter how much she missed her family, she couldn’t trade this for the world. 

“Of course.”

“We’re having a baby.” Petyr said and Sansa nodded her head in his shoulder. He pressed his lips to her neck and she could feel the smile that grew against her skin. Suddenly she felt her feet be lifted off the ground and he was spinning around. Sansa squealed in surprised and held onto his shoulders tightly. This was such a contrast from the first time she told him she was with child. While he was happy, there was such fear and doubt that it masked his joyous emotions. Benjen’s laughter could be heard throughout the garden “We’re having a baby!” 

When Petyr sat Sansa back down upon the ground, he quickly took her lips with his. She could feel the sun beating down upon her as she kissed Petyr back with fever. They could feel Benjen’s arms wrap around their legs in order of draw attention to himself. Sansa, in the back of her mind knew that it was going to be an adjustment period for their son when the new baby came. When they broke apart, Petyr knelt back down and scooped up the small boy again. He turned away from Sansa and began taking Benjen back toward the Martell villa, leaving Sansa completely confused.

“Petyr, what-?” 

“I’m going to ask Daenerys to take Benjen for the night. She adores him.” He looked over his shoulder and Sansa only raised his eyebrow in question. He smirked at her and she knew exactly what was going through his mind. “I need to be alone with you for a few hours in order to celebrate properly. I love our son but I find that he would only be in the way.” With that, Petyr walked back toward the villa. Sansa simply watched them go. The world had changed drastically. Her family had vanished and everything she knew had changed. As painful as though memories were, Sansa found that she wouldn’t change anything in order to bring the world back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that story had come to an end and I must say, I am happy how it ended. I knew where it was going but getting there was a bit confusing for me in the last two chapters. I outlined for five chapters but found it just wouldn't work and pushed it up for six.

**Author's Note:**

> This will be about five to six chapters. It's a short story but I hope that you enjoy. Please review.


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